Bouquet of Buttercups
by fadedillusion101
Summary: A chit-chat between Professor Utonium and his ebony-haired daughter before she walks down the aisle. *dedicated to marisa lee and Kelsi Lynne!* slight greens, r


**Author:** FadedIllusion101

**Title:** Bouqet Of Buttercups

**Genre:** Family/Hurt/Comfort

**Rating:** K+

**Disclaimer:** I love them to tears, but I don't own them.

**Summary: **A chit-chat between Professor Utonium and his ebony haired daughter before she walks down the aisle. Dedicated to marisa lee and Kelsi Lynne! R&R.

**Notes:** Told in third person POV. Buttercup is around 25, and the Professor is in his late forties or early fifties.

**Bouqet Of Buttercups**

A tuxedo clad Professor Utonium sat in a leather chair, his back hunched over and his hands folded at his mouth. His salt and pepper hair was messy from running his hands through it many times. A box of tissues was beside him, a bunch of used ones surrounding him by the piles. His tear-stained face looked solemn, and a small smile was etched on his face. A picture of him and his daughters sat in his lap, their smiling faces staring up at him, well, for the exception of his obsidian haired girl. She had her signature frown on her face, and strangely, he found it better that way. He remembered this day. This day was seven years ago. A day that he had refrained from thinking about since he created his precious daughters. Prom.

Oh, how he dreaded that day. Prom was a night where his daughters will be in another mans arms. A man who is not their father, he always noted. A night where his daughters would be dancing with boys he hardly knew. Hell, boys he hardly even liked because of the mere fact that they were dating his daughters. The Professor wasn't fond of Prom, not at all. The man didn't even go to his Prom, way back in the eighties, for he felt it was too reckless and immature. He, being the genius he is, stayed cooped up in his bedroom where he practiced formulas and studied novels. But this was his favorite picture of him and the girls. It was a time where he wasn't the only man in his babies' lives. A time where he wasn't the only man who was in his babies' hearts.

Bubbles was on the left, her glimmering white Cinderella dress puffing out dramatically. Her hair was in a fancy bun, two pieces framing her round and bubbly face, and a glimmering blue tiara was pinned in her orchroid locks. A beaming smile was on her face, lighting up her features and showing off her rosy cheeks.

Blossom was in the middle, as always, her orange mane cascading in curls down her back. She had on a ankle-length coral dress that made her rosy eyes pop. Her make-up was light, Blossom never liked to cake her face with heavy eyeliner. She didn't have to anyway, she always had a natural glow to her. A mature and confident smile was on her face.

Buttercup leaned against her eldest sister's side, her arms crossed across her chest and her glossy lips in a deep frown. The Professor remembered Bubbles wrestling her into a lime green dress, Buttercup shrieking protests and an infinite number of threats. He smiled. Buttercup's hair was as straight as a pin, her ebony bangs falling in her emerald eyes. The only thing his hot-headed daughter got to take charge of was what shoes she wore. A beat up and worn out pair of converse.

The Professor stood above them, a smile on his face, without a doubt a forced one. One of his hands was placed on Buttercup's slumped shoulder and the other was planted firmly on Bubbles'. His chin rested on Blossom's head, and he distinctly remembered Blossom warning him with a grin, "You're lucky I'm letting you touch my hair." The Professor sadly chuckled and wiped away a stray tear.

"Lookin' sharp, Daddio," a joking voice spoke.

The Professor's head shot up to see his ebony haired daughter. She was clad in a white ball gown, a bouquet of buttercups clasped loosely in one of her dainty hands. He remembered when he named her Buttercup, the name just seemed to fit like the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle. That just made him want to cry even more. Time went by to fast! First, he was running around frantically buying presents for her first birthdays, and now? Now, he was crying at her wedding.

A nervous look was in her apple green eyes, and her red-coated lips were set in a frown. Her foot was tapping a rhythm on the ground, _thump_, _thump_, _thump_. "Buttercup, you're all dolled up," he softly said.

Buttercup groaned, "Don't remind me. It's pretty sickening..." The girl shook her head, "I knew I should've asked Blossom to be my Maid of Honor. She isn't a nut job like Bubbles."

The Professor shrugged, "Bubbles did a pretty nice job." He scratched at his blotchy face.

"Bubbles'll do a nice job if she was planning for Cinderella, not me. All I wanted was Butch at the end of the aisle and cake to throw in his face," Buttercup seriously stated, and seconds later, she laughed.

Yep, there's the Buttercup every knew and loved.

Buttercup gently set down the flowers that shared her name and shuffled towards him. "Whatcha doin'? It's almost time," she reminded him.

The Professor traced the frame of the photo, a few tears dripping down his aging face. He clutched the picture to his chest, "It's just...my babies are growing up so fast..."

"Dad, don't start this again," The green 'puff sighed. "Bubbles will kill me if I messed up my make-up."

The Professor ignored her. She wasn't going to dance her way out of this talk. "Buttercup," he started gently. "I just wanted to let you know that I love you. And no matter the circumstance, I'll be here for you." The Professor sniffed, "I'm so proud of you," he sobbed. "Everything you've done is beyond my standard. You're everything I hoped and dreamed."

The Professor looked up with puffy eyes, and he met his daughters misty eyes. She staggered over to her father and pulled him in for a hug. He wept on her shoulder why she rubbed his back soothingly. "Thank you, Daddy," Buttercup whispered. Never in his life had the Professor heard the word 'daddy' escape Buttercup's mouth.

Just a few short months ago, the Professor would've never guessed that _Buttercup_ would be the first one to get married. And here she was, looking magnificent in a white dress, a flimsy train trailing behind her with every step she took, and a sparkling engagement ring on her slender finger. He pondered over where her fiance got her that ring. Did he steal it? If he did, he wasn't surprised. He was a Rowdyruff Boy after all, and once a Rowdyruff Boy, always a Rowdyruff Boy.

At that moment, Bubbles bounced in, knocking on the door and whistling to get their attention. A powder blue dress clung to her figure, and heels adorned her feet. Her trademark pigtails were down for the night, her hair bouncy and curly, falling over her slim shoulder. "Hey? Yeah. There's this thing called a wedding, and Buttercup here is the star of the show! And it starts in... I don't know, five minutes!" Bubbles shrieked.

"Go away Bubbles. We're kind of talking," Buttercup waved her sister away, who huffed and zipped down the hall. The Professor and Buttercup were left in silence. "So...I guess it's time?" Buttercup awkwardly spoke.

"Guess so," The Professor wouldn't glance up from his shoes. His bottom lip trembled.

Buttercup inwardly sighed. She never liked seeing the Professor like this. "Dad," she began, "I always be...um-I'll always be your little girl," Buttercup cringed from how uncomfortable and mushy she sounded in her own ears. The Professor's head shot up. His daughter had never been so soft-spoken. "Just...just remember that, OK? 'Cause I really don't want to repeat it. I have a reputation to keep, you know," Buttercup grinned. She swiped up her flowers and waited at the door for him, her eyebrows raised as if to ask 'you coming?'

The Professor led Buttercup out the door, but not before grabbing one last tissue. They walked down the hall in a comfortable silence, so silent that the Professor could've sworn he heard his daughter's heartbeat, beating faster than a speeding bullet. Buttercup's dress brushed against his legs as they walked. If Bubbles never had planned the wedding, Buttercup would've been wearing jeans and a sweatshirt.

One more corner to go around and they'll be at the head of the church. Buttercup suddenly stopped, her eyes wide, holding a glint of fear. Her father immediately wanted to comfort her, so he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Ready?" The Professor held an arm out, bracing himself for the bittersweet moments to come.

Buttercup clutched to his arm like a wild animal and nodded. She made sure she didn't crush the flowers nor the Professor's arm with her iron grip. They took a couple more steps and were at the start of the aisle. The organ began to play a familiar song and everybody rose to their feet. She locked eyes with her future husband under the altar, his jet black hair slicked back and a boutonniere by his chest. His jade orbs twinkled and met hers and he beamed, almost childishly, and that single action suddenly reminded her why she fell in love with him. His brothers stood at his side respectfully, Boomer with his hands clasped at his front, and Brick...well Brick still wore his hat. Bubbles winked at her and gave her two thumbs up, while Blossom being more mild and mellow, gave her a small smile and a swift nod.

Buttercup glanced up at the Professor, his chocolate-brown eyes meeting hers. "Dad, don't let me fall."

"I won't," the Professor croaked and began to lead her down the wine red carpet. After guiding Buttercup to the altar and giving her counterpart a warning glance, he plopped himself down on the pew. He sighed and rubbed his temples. The man was sure about two things at that very moment. One, that Buttercup will always be his little girl, no matter what happens. And two, he was going to need more than one little tissue.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Yeah. I was in the mood for a more family type of fic today...**


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